


Empty Blue

by LeapAngstily



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Double Penetration, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Consensual, Physical and emotional abuse, Porn Industry and everything that comes with it, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:12:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn Industry AU. Gay porn industry is a harsh world – people come and go, each one more broken than the other. Some get out, others learn to deal with it, and some are destroyed beyond repair. Andrea is somewhere in between, but he likes to think he still cares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a great quote on Pirlo’s beard from [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KjvvzO3O4tQ): _”Spaghetti Western meets Italian 70s porn.”_  
>  Not set in the 70s, but there’s definitely porn. Please heed the warnings because this is not gonna be pretty, happy or romantic!  
> I’m still trying to persuade my friend to write the Spaghetti Western AU in response to this one.
> 
> I really really really needed to get this out of my system - it's been ruining my sleep for the past week or so! Hopefully now I can enjoy my trip to Japan without disturbing mental images popping up every five minutes.
> 
> I regret nothing!

The script says  _Fresh Anuses vol. 6: Ricky Blue_.   
  
The title is positively cringe-worthy, and so is the idea of another barely legal twink on set, waiting to be fucked from all possible directions. Possibly at the same time.  
  
The series might be the most popular one among the viewers, but all actors in the studio agree that they would prefer working with the professionals they have grown used to.  
  
Andrea wishes he could have a shot of whisky, maybe smoke a bit of weed, before going on set today. But rules are rules: they are expected to be clean when they are working – nothing to compromise their performance.   
  
Still, it is definitely one of those days when Andrea would much rather have stayed in bed than do his job.  
  
Most of his days have become those days recently, he notes bitterly as he enters the elevator and chooses seventh floor where the studio is located.  
  
Another film is being shot in the studio as he enters. Andrea can hear the director’s voice from the bathroom, telling the actors to switch positions, to get away from under the shower. The loud, painfully fake moaning continues after a while, urged by the director’s “Louder, God damnit!”  
  
The new film has been in production for a week now. Andrea’s scene will be the last one – the  _grande finale_  – which probably means he will be stuck at the studio until late at night, most likely with a sore, cranky partner with a week full of filming behind him.  
  
He hates the tight schedules, especially when they involve inexperienced actors, sometimes even first-timers.   
  
Gay porn cannot be rushed in the way straight or lesbian productions sometimes are. Pills can give you an erection almost immediately, but a good film is nothing without a proper cumshot – and that cannot be achieved without proper recuperation period.  
  
But time is money, as the producers keep reminding them – the faster the studio can wrap up a film, the sooner they will get the profits from it.  
  
“Andrea! Long time no see!” Daniele greets him as he exits the dressing room, fresh from shower and in street clothes. Apparently he has already finished for the day, the lucky bastard.  
  
“You’re in  _Ricky Blue_  as well, right? How’s the new kid? Not another gay for pay?” Andrea picks up a conversation, following Daniele back into the hallway, happy to have an excuse to escape the sounds of filming for as long as he can.   
  
Daniele is rarely around the same time Andrea is, not since he moved up to more central roles. Andrea kind of misses doing scenes with him – Daniele has the talent to make his partners relax on set, which makes filming just that much easier.  
  
“Don’t think so. Certainly knew how to give head, didn’t even flinch when he got the facial,” Daniele shrugs, like it is the kind of topic he discusses every day. It probably is, just like for everyone else in their profession.  
  
“Pro, then?” Andrea raises his eyebrows in surprise, because so far the  _Fresh Anals_  has focused on amateurs in their first professional productions.  
  
“Nah, I think they picked him up from some video chat site – jerking off on webcam to pay the rent or something. Probably couldn’t resist the money offered for a full-length film.”  
  
Andrea nods his understanding. It is not the first time the producers have hired some reasonably popular internet amateur – the last one was horrible, thought he was on par with the professionals just because he got some nice comments online.  
  
That one did not last long: only one film and a few supporting roles before the director grew tired of his attitude and he was out of the door.  
  
“So, how long is this one gonna last?” he asks Daniele, only slightly curious.   
  
It is a tradition of sorts among the older actors to bet on the newcomers. Andrea has never been particularly good at it: he gave Daniele two months and yet here he is, one and a half years later. One of the very few who could handle it.  
  
“He seemed like a good kid, obedient, so I doubt he’s gonna get fired,” Daniele replies after some consideration, “Dunno how long he can take it, though. Doesn’t seem to be enjoying the job that much. Maybe a month, tops?”  
  
A month seems generous if the dislike for the job is obvious right from the start, but Andrea cannot comment on it before meeting the boy himself.  
  
“So who else has he been with? Heard it was five scenes for this film?” he waves the script in his hand as he speaks, although he knows a script is a subject to change in their line of work. The director might have chosen to cut something off after seeing the new guy in action, or he might have decided to include a new scene based on the viewer ratings.  
  
“Francesco said they did the car scene last weekend, and there was a masturbation part at some point too. Gigi was filming a shower scene with him right after we did the blowjob a few days ago, but I think that’s it.”  
  
Andrea lets out a sigh of relief, because having had experienced partners hopefully means the boy is reasonably unhurt. And if his last scene was filmed days ago, he has also had some time to recover.  
  
Hopefully there will not be that many people in the studio for his scene, either, since they are starting so late. Andrea is used to working in front of lots of people – he has been in the industry for four years – but it is always easier to concentrate when there are no spectators loitering around.  
  
Daniele gets on the elevator and Andrea goes back into the studio, where the bath scene is still going on. They should be finishing up soon, half an hour at most, because the director is the same as for Andrea’s scene. But you never really know how long it takes until they have enough footage.  
  
“Oh, Andrea,” one of the assistants walks up to him with a pile of printouts and hands him one, “There’s been a change in the script. You’ll be doing a threesome with Gigi.”  
  
Andrea hums his acknowledgement but does not bother to look at the papers. There is not going to be anything worthwhile there. If the director has suddenly decided that he wants Gigi in this scene with them, it most likely means they will be dependent on the spoken directions.  
  
He does not mind working with Gigi – the man is a veteran, knows what he is doing, always makes an effort to communicate with his co-actors and remembers to make sure his partner is fine afterwards.   
  
In all likelihood it will be easier for the new guy as well, to have someone there he has already worked with.  
  
Andrea is just considering an escape to the dressing room until his own scene is up when Gigi marches into the studio like he owns the place, a perfect picture of a rock star with his sunglasses and open leather jacket, three top buttons of his shirt undone.  
  
He pulls off the glasses as he greets Andrea with a wide smile and crosses the room to come and hug him.  
  
“Been a while since we last worked together. You think they’ll let me top you this time?” there is a mischievous glint in Gigi’s eyes as he speaks, always ready tease Andrea for his ‘top only’ reputation.  
  
Andrea is about to retort when his attention is pulled elsewhere as the new boy walks in, much more subdued compared to Gigi’s grand entrance.  
  
Andrea can see why the producers would scout him. He certainly has the face: the wide, blue, expressive eyes and his pale, unique features will definitely sell on the cover of the DVD.  
  
He is tall, taller than Andrea, and his dark hair falls onto his face in soft curves. He is not a typical twink – not so small and skinny – and he does not look quite as young as Andrea feared.  
  
There is still an air of innocence about him, though, even after a week of filming. He is looking around self-consciously, like he thinks that maybe he should be somewhere else.  
  
“Oi, Riccardo!” Gigi beckons the boy over with a smile, “This is Andrea, he’s gonna be with us in the next scene.”  
  
Riccardo shakes Andrea’s hand shyly, his grip a bit uncertain, and he hesitates to look Andrea in the eyes. Typical amateur: getting anxious when he meets people he is supposed to fuck for the next few hours or so.  
  
“No need to be shy with me, this is just a job, right?” Andrea tells him with a half-smile, not letting go of Riccardo’s hand before the boy’s eyes meet his. So blue, even bluer than Gigi’s, surrounded by long lashes.  
  
“I’ve seen your films,” Riccardo admits to Andrea’s surprise, a tentative smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He is biting his lip, like waiting to be judged, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”  
  
Andrea is left speechless, so he just lets out a shocked laugh and pats Riccardo on the shoulder. Such innocence – Andrea cannot help but hope that some of it will be left intact even after the DVD is on the shelves.  
  
They are ushered into the dressing rooms soon after, just as the filming in the bathroom is wrapped up.   
  
Andrea gets undressed, only a light dressing gown with a loose belt left to cover him, and then his beard and pubic hair are trimmed and makeup applied to appropriate places.  
  
Apparently this scene is supposed to be a straight continuation from the previous one with Gigi: fresh from shower, Riccardo and Gigi come and join Andrea in the bedroom, ready for the next round.   
  
Andrea finally takes a look at the papers he got earlier, and it takes a while for him to process what he is seeing.  
  
 _Threesome, DP._  
  
DP. Double penetration.   
  
Double penetration with an amateur bottom. An amateur who probably had no idea what he was signing up for when he accepted the film deal.   
  
Double penetration on the shy, still innocent Riccardo, who probably did not even know about the change in the script when he came in today.  
  
There are only two bottoms in the whole company who have appeared in DP films, and only one of them has been willing to do it more than once.   
  
Andrea has not done it himself, although for a professional top it is not supposed to be that challenging. Gigi definitely has experience, he would not have been chosen for the scene otherwise.  
  
Andrea feels sick even thinking about it, and he walks out of the dressing room with a firm intention to confront the director about his decision. He comes to the bedroom set just in time to hear Riccardo’s distressed protest: “No! I’m not doing it!”  
  
Apparently the director had finally seen fit to inform his new star of the contents of the next scene.  
  
“You signed the contract: I have every right to decide what happens in my film,” there is no sympathy in the director’s voice as he tells Riccardo to man up, “Porn isn’t just fun and games, boy. This is a business, and we need to answer to the demands of the market.”  
  
There is pure terror in Riccardo’s eyes, as the reality of the situation dawns to him. Andrea is about to walk up to them and tell Riccardo he does not have to do it, but Gigi’s hand on his shoulder stops him.  
  
“There’s nothing you can do,” he whispers, his voice pained but matter-of-fact, “Riccardo is knee-deep in debt: he can’t afford walking out and breaking the contract. They’d sue his ass off. They know it and he knows it – that’s why they’re doing this.”  
  
“What if we walk out?” Andrea knows he is fighting a losing battle even as the question falls from his lips.  
  
“They’ll just get someone else to do it. Someone with no care for his wellbeing,” Gigi’s eyes are sad, far away, like remembering something that happened in the past. Andrea suddenly remembers that Gigi has been in the business at least twice as long as he has. He knows what he is talking about.  
  
“All we can do is go along with it and try to make it as painless for him as possible,” Gigi concludes, his arm wrapped around Andrea’s shoulders but eyes never leaving Riccardo, who looks like he is close to tears.  
  
“You make it sound so easy,” Andrea chuckles humourlessly even though laughing is the last thing he wants to do, as Riccardo bites his lip and gives up the fight, fear lingering in his eyes.  
  
The director is speaking to Riccardo in a low voice, too quiet for them to hear, but they can see him taking pills from his pocket and pushing them between Riccardo’s lips one by one. One, two, three pills. Sedatives and anti-anxiety drugs, most likely.  
  
Gigi hands Andrea a bottle of pills without looking at him – Viagra, probably the third drug Riccardo had to take – “Take one. You’ll need it.”  
  
Andrea swallows a blue pill dry before handing the bottle back, and Gigi pops one into his mouth as well.  
  
The director comes over to explain the scene to them while an assistant prepares Riccardo, who is half-lying on the table, his face pressed against the surface, refusing to look at anyone around him.   
  
Andrea cannot concentrate on the director’s words at all, his eyes glued on Riccardo: the assistant is spreading numbing lube around and inside his entrance, stretching him carefully, adding more lube a few times before he is satisfied with the result. They will need to add more lube during filming, and Andrea doubts it will be enough even then.  
  
“Andrea, you listening?” the director’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he tries to focus. They need to know what is expected of them so they can wrap this up as quickly and painlessly as possible.  
  
Riccardo is waiting next to the cameras, wrapped in a fluffy towel, when the director tells Andrea to take his position on the bed, a book in hand and his robe falling off his shoulders.  
  
Gigi goes to hug Riccardo as the assistants fuss around Andrea, adding the last touches before filming. The young man does not return the hug, does not even react when Gigi caresses his face with both hands, whispering comforting words into his ear.  
  
And then the camera is rolling, and Riccardo walks slowly to the bed, towards Andrea, his eyes fixed on some invisible spot in the wall. He drops the towel to the floor, the cameras following his every step.  
  
He climbs on the bed, his movements forming one fluid motion, and straddles Andrea’s hips, plucks the book from his hands. He presses their foreheads together, trailing his mouth on his face before Andrea lifts his hand to the back of his neck and kisses him hard, all open mouths and battling tongues.   
  
Andrea makes sure to turn his face to the side to allow the cameramen a full shot of their mouths, running his tongue on Riccardo’s lips before deepening the kiss again.  
  
Their eyes meet for the first time only when they break the kiss and Riccardo slides down Andrea’s torso, looking up at him through his lashes. That is the money shot, Andrea knows, the one that will end up in the promo materials.  
  
The earlier fear is gone from Riccardo’s eyes, but so is the softness, the shyness, the enticing innocence. This is just a shell of the boy he met earlier, the drugs cutting off the edge that made him seem so special.  
  
Riccardo pulls Andrea’s robe open and takes his cock into his mouth, starts sucking him off. He gags a little when he follows the director’s orders to go deeper, but after a couple of takes he gets a hang of it again. Andrea lets out a well-practiced groan, bucking his hips up into Riccardo’s mouth when he is told to.  
  
It feels like forever before the director gives Riccardo a permission to stop, and he moves to straddle Andrea again, this time rubbing his backside against Andrea’s erection.  
  
Andrea can feel Riccardo’s muscles tensing as he presses up against him, kissing him again. Andrea wants to tell him it will be fine, but they are on camera, their every word recorded.   
  
Instead he runs his hands down Riccardo’s back, rubbing the tense muscles longer than necessary as the kiss stretches, moving to grab the firm buttocks only when he can feel Riccardo relaxing, if only a bit.  
  
An assistant pours some lube on his hand as the cameras focus on their kiss, and Andrea coats his cock with the pre-warmed gel before using the remains to push two fingers inside Riccardo to slick him further.  
  
There is no time to prepare him more than that, as the director orders a close-up for the penetration. Andrea positions himself against Riccardo’s entrance and begs silently that the lubrication and the drugs are enough to ease his discomfort.  
  
Riccardo pushes his hips down, sinking fully on Andrea’s cock in one go, letting out a moan, so obviously fake Andrea almost expects the director to order a retake.  
  
Riccardo keeps moving on Andrea’s cock as the cameras roll, one focused on Riccardo’s ass, other on his face.  
  
They switch positions on instruction, Riccardo still riding Andrea but leaning back, the angle of entrance different, and the cameras get a good shot of Riccardo’s cock, straining hard against his belly, moving with every jerk of his hips.  
  
Then it is finally Gigi’s time to step in, and Andrea can feel Riccardo clenching around his cock, his tensing muscles betraying his fear again, not even the drugs enough to wipe it away completely.  
  
Gigi presses up against Riccardo’s back, reaches one hand around him to stroke his cock while he turns Riccardo’s face with the other, claiming his lips in a possessive kiss.  
  
He then pushes Riccardo forwards, flush against Andrea’s chest, his ass in the air, Andrea’s cock still inside him.  
  
Riccardo presses his face in the crook of Andrea’s neck, and Andrea can feel the wetness of his tears against his skin. Andrea tangles his fingers in his hair, massages his scalp in a desperate attempt to comfort him.  
  
Gigi ignores the director’s instruction to ‘get on with it’ – instead he demands the lube, rubbing his slicked fingers against Riccardo’s clenching entrance, taking his time before finally forcing a finger inside alongside Andrea’s cock.  
  
Riccardo gasps against Andrea’s neck at the intrusion, his whole body shaking in effort not to pull away.  
  
“Gigi, we’ve got no time for this!”  
  
“Shut up!” Gigi snaps at the director as he slowly starts working another finger inside Riccardo, “You can edit this out afterwards, just let me do this right!”  
  
The pressure on Andrea’s cock is almost painful, and he cannot even begin to imagine how it must feel for Riccardo, who is gasping for air against his neck.  
  
Three fingers inside and Gigi cannot prolong it anymore. He retracts his fingers, eliciting a sigh of relief from Riccardo, but then Andrea can feel the tip of Gigi’s erection positioned next to his own length, against Riccardo’s entrance.  
  
The tears start anew as Gigi starts pushing himself in, and Riccardo is unable to hide his strangled sobs anymore.  
  
Andrea thinks the director is going to tell Riccardo to start moaning to hide his discomfort, but instead the bastard tells him to turn his face towards the camera.  
  
They actually  _want_  to see Riccardo’s tears, show everyone how terrified and broken the boy is, even with the sedatives still in his system. It is not the first time Andrea sees the sickness of his profession, but he does not remember ever being this disgusted over anything.  
  
Gigi is fully in, his cock aligned with Andrea’s inside Riccardo. He starts moving slowly, the friction balancing on the terrible line between pleasure and pain.   
  
For Riccardo it is definitely pain: he has stopped even trying to hide his sobs, his breath hitching with Gigi’s every thrust, his fingers clutching Andrea’s shoulders so tight they will probably bruise later. Andrea lets him do it, kissing his hair, caressing his neck and shoulders comfortingly.  
  
 _Just a little bit more. It’ll be over soon. Just bear with it a while longer. It’ll be over soon. It’ll be over soon. It’ll be over soon._  
  
He knows Riccardo cannot hear his wordless pleas, but Andrea hopes he understands the feeling nonetheless.  
  
Gigi’s instruction was to keep going until he has an orgasm, and it is obvious the man is trying to speed up the process as much as possible without hurting Riccardo any more in the process. It still takes a long time, which is undoubtedly what the director wanted in the first place – more footage for the film.  
  
It feels like an eternity, but then finally,  _finally_ , Gigi pulls out and with a couple jerks on his cock spills his seed over Riccardo’s anus and buttocks.  
  
Riccardo sags against Andrea’s chest, attempting to catch his breath, wiping his tears when the cameras are turned away from his face.  
  
The scene is not over yet, but they are past the worst part.  
  
They get an order to change positions, Riccardo sitting in Andrea’s lap with his back to him, Andrea bucking upwards into him, stroking his cock in time with the thrusts.  
  
Riccardo is whimpering now – fake or real, Andrea cannot tell – his head leant on Andrea’s shoulder, eyelids pressed closed tightly. His body is tight around Andrea’s cock, but not nearly as painful as earlier.  
  
Andrea picks up his pace, his jerks on Riccardo’s cock getting harder.  
  
“Come. Come for me. Let me see you come.”  
  
Practiced porn lines, acceptable even without the script, but the meaning behind the words is much more personal.  
  
 _Please come, Riccardo. It’ll make this stop, it’ll give them what they want. Please please please just come._  
  
And Riccardo does, after a few more minutes, a guttural moan echoing in Andrea’s ears as his hand is coated with Riccardo’s cum.  
  
“That’s it Andrea, now the finale!”  
  
He pushes Riccardo down on all fours, his body still clenching around his cock, and keeps thrusting into him with long, fast movements until his own orgasm washes over him.   
  
He pushes fully in one final time, letting his sperm seep into Riccardo, pulling out only to let the last drops mix with Gigi’s around Riccardo’s entrance.   
  
There is blood as well, mixed with cum and lube. Too much of it, and Andrea feels physically sick.  
  
“That’s a wrap! Good job guys!”  
  
Andrea wants to punch the director in the face for his cheery tone. Does he not understand how much damage he has done today?  
  
Riccardo is not getting up: instead, he pulls himself into fetal position, wrapping the loose sheets around himself, like trying to hide himself from everyone around him. His shoulders are shaking with quiet sobs, but Andrea resists the urge to touch him.  
  
Riccardo needs his space, after being violated so thoroughly. Andrea is the last person who could comfort him right now.  
  
So he walks away from the set instead, hiding in the dressing room until the voices of the filming staff move out to the hallways.  
  
He finally takes a shower and changes into clean clothes when the whole studio quiets down.  
  
He half-expects to see Gigi when he walks out of the dressing room and he is not disappointed: the man is leaning on the wall opposite to the dressing room doors, smoking a cigarette, pointedly ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign right next to him.  
  
“He’s still there,” he tells Andrea, the emotionless tone not enough to hide the sadness in his eyes, “I told everyone we’d lock up. No need for extra eyes now.”  
  
Andrea takes a look towards the set, at Riccardo who is now sitting up, the sheet still wrapped around himself like a shield against the rest of the world.  
  
“You’re not coming?”  
  
“I tried, he’s not talking,” Gigi looks helpless –  _Gigi is never helpless_  – “I think we broke one for good this time.”  
  
No. Andrea cannot let that happen. Not to Riccardo, with the shy smile and an uncertain handshake.  
  
He walks into the set slowly, clearing his throat to let Riccardo know he is there. The boy pulls his knees closer to his chest in response.  
  
Andrea closes the distance, sitting on the edge of the bed, not saying a word, just offering his company.  
  
He pulls out a joint from his bag, not caring if the smell of weed gets stuck in the sheets. Most of the actors smoke on their spare time anyways – they need something to pull their mind off work.  
  
“Here, take this,” he offers once he has lit the joint and breathed in the first puff.  
  
Riccardo looks at him, tear tracks still visible but his eyes dry. He makes no move to take the offered cigarette.  
  
“It’s not gonna make anything better, but it’ll help ease the pain for now,” Andrea tells him solemnly, reaching out towards Riccardo, putting the joint on his lips. He smiles a little when Riccardo finally takes a drag, closing his eyes as he breathes in the smoke.  
  
He coughs a little, unused to the sensation, but accepts the joint nonetheless, his fingers brushing against Andrea’s.  
  
They stay like that for a long time, sharing one joint and then a second, not saying a word before they hear the church bells chiming midnight.  
  
“We better get going,” Andrea says quietly, getting up and offering a hand to Riccardo, who accepts it after a while of consideration. He stumbles against Andrea when he gets up, his legs giving out under him – an effect of the filming or the weed, Andrea is not sure.  
  
Gigi is still waiting for them in the lobby when Andrea walks Riccardo into the dressing room and helps him get dressed.  
  
“Thank you,” Riccardo whispers when the three of them are finally out of the building.  
  
Andrea has no idea what he is supposed to say to that, because Riccardo has no reason to thank them. So he just asks where Riccardo lives and hails him a cab, giving the driver enough money to take him home.  
  
“Think we’ll see him again?” Gigi asks when the taxi disappears around a corner.  
  
“I don’t know. I certainly hope not, for his sake.”  
  
Andrea is not sure he will be ready to come back to work himself after tonight, that one final piece that was left of him crushed by the empty blue eyes that used to be so full of life.


End file.
